


Neon Lights at 1:30am

by IDoNotBiteMyThumbAtYou



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Post-Uprising, They went through hell and back, and everything is ok, and they still don't listen to scientists, destroyed the precursors, even if those scientists saved the world, except that people are still people, very fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 18:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15847299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IDoNotBiteMyThumbAtYou/pseuds/IDoNotBiteMyThumbAtYou
Summary: Hermann and Newt attend a discouraging conference, in the worst city in the world, and have a marvelous time.Part of the (Help) universe.





	Neon Lights at 1:30am

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KateDoesntExist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateDoesntExist/gifts).



 

Neon. Neon. Neon. Newt suspected that there weren’t any other kinds of lights in Las Vegas.

During the day It was so hot and dry that the sweat evaporated off of you before it even had the chance to cool your skin. Now, at 1:20am it was a little better. A nice mild… Newt checked his smart watch. Jesus Christ. 87 degrees Fahrenheit.

Upon their arrival for the Jaeger Tech summit, Newt had been thrilled (“Cowboys! Showgirls! Light-shows! BRITNEY SPEARS!!”) and Hermann had been skeptical (Gambling. No windows to trick people into more gambling. 44•C weather.  :/ )

But now after three days on the strip they hadn’t made it to a single show because their presentation had gone… poorly and they found themselves on the defensive all weekend. Turns out saving the world only counts if your involvement isn’t heavily classified, and the goodwill they’d garnered as two of the Heroes of ‘25 was fifteen years stale. They both considered it lucky nearly to the point of miraculous that no one outside the PPDC ever had to find out about the “invasion,” or the multiverse or the obliteration of the Precursor threat, but Newt still kind of wished he could get his hands on some of that world-saving clout about now.

The extreme temperature fluctuations between the icy air conditioning and the I’ll-turn-into a pot-roast-if-I-stay-out-here-too-long heat certainly didn’t help. The two of them had been driven to an equilibrium of misery.

Newt decided he hated Las Vegas, and was baffled that Hermann wasn’t more tetchy than he was. It wasn’t that Hermann seemed… happy - he had been reduced to wearing short-sleeved button downs. Hermann was never happy when he had to wear short-sleeved button downs - but he certainly wasn’t any _more_ grumpy than when they arrived. Of course - Newt should have known - Hermann was a guy way better equipped to deal with minor inconveniences than him.

All the same, Newt had been surprised when Hermann suggested an outdoor walk. Their Very Professional drinks event (debate. Yelling match) with the new crop of Jeager specialists had ended at 1:00am. Well past Hermann’s self-appointed and scrupulously maintained bedtime.

“Are you sure?” Newt had asked.

Hermann checked his watch. “Yes. Let’s go.”

Which is how Newt found himself  at 1:25am on the strip, bitterly complaining at Hermann about their treatment over the weekend. “I’m just. I can’t _believe_ how _rude_ they were! Like. I want to be like, ‘hey! Do you know who I am? What I did for you people‽’”

“Please don’t.” Hermann said distractedly, scanning the horizon, “They’ll know someday.”

“I won’t do it. I won’t. I just wish they would listen.”

“These are people who make their living off of Jaeger technology.” Hermann said

“ _Your_ technology.” Newt snapped.

“Yes. Well. In a sense.”

“No. Literally your tech! They should listen to you.”

“That was many years ago. We’re has-beens, Newton. And, more importantly, If they took our projections seriously, it would mean the loss of hundred of thousands of jobs, and billions in revenue. It’s easier to pretend we’re wrong. This is nothing new.”

“But it would create a hell of a lot more new jobs! And fuck revenue!”

Hermann smiled fondly “Please. Not everyone shares your idealism.”

“It would make the world a better place! How can they not see that?”

“You didn’t think we would be able to change their minds with one presentation did you?” Hermann said, laying it out diplomatically “Our history with the PPDC, and _your_ history with Shao industries complicates -”

“But like, I’m a rebel weapons manufacturing _defector!_ I’ve been on the inside! Shouldn’t that make them listen to me more?  When I say the the private sector military industrial complex is fucked, they should know that _I know_ what I’m talking about and listen to me! Jaeger shouldn’t be used against people! It’s a goddamn slippery slope to a police state to out and out Fascism and it’s already veering that way here in the states! And sure, maybe the States is always, like a sneeze away from military fascism at any given time but the Jaeger sure aren’t helping! They should be used to help people or NOT AT ALL!” Now that he was saying it all without having to filter for "civilized" debate, He was so mad he didn’t care that his voice was going shrill and loud. It had been a weekend of a lot of yelling, and he was starting to go a bit hoarse. “And all that tech! Those patents aren’t helping anyone! And, you know, yeah I’m pretty annoyed, actually. And also - and now I’m just being finicky - but who thought it was a good idea to stuff a bunch of sweaty Jaeger nerds in a hotel in Las Vegas? Like, Why are we _here?”_

Hermann checked his watch.

“Oh I’m _sorry_ , am I _boring_ you, babe?” Newt sputtered.

At the outburst, Hermann gave him the look of startled, silent admonishment that one gives a cat when it has just unceremoniously bopped you in the face. Wordlessly he pulled a water bottle from the side pouch of his backpack and handed it over.

“Oh jeeze. You’re so right.” Newt sheepishly took the water bottle and took a deep drink. “Thanks.”

Hermann took the water bottle back without looking. He seemed to be looking for something. He checked his watch again and flinched, startled.

“This way, Newton.” he said, taking off at brisk clip. “Hurry!”

It was only then that Newt realized Hermann was leading them somewhere. “Wait. Wait Hermann slow down where are we going?”

“Remarkable place, Las Vegas.” Hermann said, breathless with the effort to maintain his current pace. “Absolutely miserable in so many ways. But…” he stopped in front of a large, mirror-still pool in front of a brilliantly lit hotel/casino shaped like a pair of high-heeled shoes. “where else will one find a fountain-and-light show scheduled for exactly 1:30 AM?”

“A wha-”

Just then a synthesized fanfare of horns heralded a sudden rushing fan of water from the pool.

They watched as the water leaped and danced and cascaded in complex choreography to a strangely familiar melody that Newt couldn’t quite place. Then the quarter dropped, and cha-ching! Like a cartoon character with neon-bright stars in his eyes he stared in open-mouthed delight at Hermann as he realized what the music was: a big-band medley of Britney Spears songs. “You drive me Crazy” blended into “Toxic” which transformed into “Baby One More Time,” then “Womanizer,” then “Oops I did it Again,” before flourishing into a finale of a soupy, sappy _totally Las Vegas_ rendition of “I’m not a girl.” The bubblegum pink neon lights of the hotel behind the fountain flashed in unison with the swirling spray of lit up water. In this context, Newt totally got the appeal of neon, and by the time the show was over, he was a little more won over to the charm of Vegas.

“That...” he said, shellshocked, “was the tackiest shit I’ve ever seen in my many lives.”

“You’re welcome.” Hermann couldn’t stop a teeth baring smile at Newt’s endearingly sincere delight.

“ _Thank_ you. Babe?” He took Hermann by the shoulders and looked him very seriously in the eye, “Thank. You.”

Hermann shrugged, still grinning, flushed at the success of his gift, “It seemed like something you would like.”

Newt decided that this was the perfect moment to kiss him, so he let his hands drift from his shoulders to his face and pulled him down. They were both smiling so hard that is was difficult to do any deeper than sweet, affectionate (sloppy) pecks on one anothers’ mouth and cheeks and throat.

A girl in a wedding dress walked by holding her shoes, “Get it Grandpa!” she shouted. Newt laughed and flipped her off, not even caring that she might have meant either one of them.

It occured to Newt just then that the weekend had been so stressful that other than the rote, exhausted kisses of good morning and goodnight, they’d barely touched each other. A shame that. He couldn’t believe that he let an entire three days go by without kissing this guy properly. And with the warmth of the kiss Newt could tell that their exhaustion-imposed celibacy was going to end that night. He drew away and sighed contentedly.

“Damn.” he whispered.

“Hm?”

“I just realized: We totally should have kissed during the show that would have been so romantic.”

Hermann’s eyeroll was undermined by the stubbornly persistent grin still plastered to his face.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” Newt wondered aloud.

“We saved the world.” Hermann said simply, “well. You helped.”

Newt laughed outright at the jab, and nodded in enthusiastic agreement. “We saved the world. Right.” He let go of Hermann’s face, and the weekend’s events came back to him. His shoulders sagged. “Only for it to destroy itself again.” Newt was suddenly bone tired. His eyes felt like sand in this dry heat. “We’re going to be fighting this fight for the rest of our lives aren’t we?”

Hermann patted his cheek with businesslike affection. “Probably.” He said, and began walking back towards their hotel.

Newt followed, taken aback by Hermann’s flippancy. “This weekend was _awful,_ Herm. Why aren’t you more… pissed? Or. Discouraged.”

“ _Newton_ . This was _one_ conference.” Hermann marched onward without looking at Newt, seeming physically fortified by the determination in his own words. “You must understand. I spent 10 years fighting for the good of the world without you. I was fighting this exact same fight back when I thought I was the last of us. Back when I thought you were on the other side of it. But we can do so much more now that we have each other. Why _should_ I be discouraged?”

Newt walked slightly behind Hermann so he could watch him, and was warmed by the thought of the projected years by this man’s side. “Fighting the good fight together. Yeah.” He shuffled a few steps to catch up, and nudged Hermann’s shoulder with his, “I guess we’re not supervillains anymore. Huh?”

“No” a shadow crossed Hermann’s face and he took Newt by the hand without looking. “We never were. Not really.”

Newt could have disagreed. He could have said ‘mmmmmmmmmyeah we were a little.’ He could have pointed out that some of their actions had been morally questionable at best and outright malicious at worst, and that it was only by the grace of good fortune and strange, nearly magical science that everything had turned out alright. But he didn’t. He understood what Hermann meant, and why it was important to him to say it. So all he could say was,

“God, I love you.”

Hermann gave his hand a little shake “And I you.” And they walked the rest of the way like that, hand in hand on the Las Vegas strip under the neon lights at 2:00am.

**Author's Note:**

> This is why I don't do prompts very often. I like them too much and they turn into proper drabbles.
> 
> If you enjoyed this, please let me know in the comments! Thank you!


End file.
